After hearing the tale of Vritrasur, Parikshit turned to Shukadev with a thoughtful question. “Maharaj, does it not seem inappropriate for God to side with the devatas (celestial gods) while opposing the daityas (demons)? Such conduct does not appear befitting of the Supreme, for nobility lies in viewing all beings with the same vision...”

Parikshit’s query touches upon a strange paradox. Bhagavad Gita Verse 5.18 states: The truly learned, with the eyes of divine knowledge, see with equal vision a Brahmin, a cow, an elephant, a dog, and a dog-eater. Moreover, the scriptures repeatedly affirm that God is samadarshi—impartial and equal towards all. Shree Krishna declares in Bhagavad Gita Verse 9.29: I am equally disposed to all living beings; I am neither inimical nor partial to anyone. Similarly, in the Ramcharitmanas, Lord Ram says, 

अखिल बिस्व यह मोर उपाया। सब पर मोहि बराबरि दाया॥ 

The entire universe has been created by Me, and My compassion is equal towards all.

Parikshit continued, “If Bhagavan is truly equitable, why does He not treat everyone alike? Are not all beings His children?” 

Beneath an Omen

To untangle the riddle posed by Parikshit, Shukadev recounts the anomalous saga of Shishupal.

When Shishupal was born, he emerged in a startling form: three hands jutted forth from his torso and four legs streched beneath him. Aghast at the sight, his mother resolved to discard the infant. But, suddenly, an Akashvani thundered from above: Mother, do not forsake this child. Neither can you take his life, nor will abandoning him serve any purpose. The one who will end his life will one day appear before you. The moment He takes the child into His arms, the extra limbs shall disappear.

Time rolled on, until one day Shree Krishna arrived to visit his aunt (the mother of Shishupal). As Krishna entered, she placed the child in His lap, and what was once foretold became a reality. In an instant, the child’s extra limbs vanished. Shishupal’s mother now realized that she stood before the one who would kill her son. Overcome with dread, she clutched at Krishna’s feet and pleaded, “Please forgive my child. Have mercy upon him.” 

Shree Krishna replied solemnly, “I shall forgive him a hundred offenses. But if he crosses that limit, I will kill him.” From then on, this omen lingered as a barb in Shishupal’s life. As he grew, his hatred towards Krishna became inveterate, etched into his very sinew and bone.

The Hundredth Offense

Years unfolded, and history itself seemed to converge upon a defining moment in Indraprastha. Yudhishthir was performing the grand Rajasuya yajna, and the mightiest kings, sages, and nobles of the land had gathered for the occasion. Amidst the august assembly arose a question: who should receive the Agra Puja (the first honor of worship)? Without a trace of hesitation, Yudhishthir declared, “Shree Krishna, of course—Krishnam Vande Jagadgurum. I bow to Shree Krishna, the Guru of the universe. Who else could be more worthy?”

As the gathering resounded with praises of Lord Krishna, one man sat smouldering in silence—Shishupal. His hatred for Krishna had long burned like a hidden ember, yet another wound had fanned the flames. Once he had desired Rukmini’s hand in marriage, only to watch Krishna sweep her away before his very eyes. And now, as Krishna was exalted with the ceremonial honor, Shishupal’s fury finally erupted. Rising before the entire royal court, in a voice dripping with venom, Shishupal blurted:

“Krishna is a mere gwala—a cowherd boy!

“And you wish to worship him?”

“Who even knows whose son He truly is?”

“He has two mothers and two fathers!

“Is He the son of Vasudev or Nand? Devaki’s child or Yashoda’s?” 

Shishupal continued spewing a relentless torrent of abuse.

Yet Krishna remained calm, silent. Years ago, He had given His word to Shishupal’s mother: ‘I shall forgive him a hundred offenses.’ And so, as Shishupal raged on, Krishna simply listened; as though counting each insult…ninety-seven…ninety-eight…ninety-nine…

But the moment the hundredth offense was crossed, Krishna invoked His wrath.

And herein lies the difference between Yogeshwar Shree Krishna and ordinary mortals. We become slaves to anger at the slightest sting. Bhagavan, however, is never ruled by anger; rather, anger remains subordinate to Him. Maya forever stands at His command. Only when the divine purpose demands it does God summon it.

Lord Krishna released His Sudarshan Chakra. It whirled through the assembly and, in a single stroke, severed Shishupal’s head. The court gasped. But what followed astonished everyone even more. As Shishupal’s lifeless body slumped to the floor, a radiant spark—his soul—rose forth and merged into Krishna Himself. By meeting his end at the hands of the Lord, Shishupal had attained Kaivalya Moksh.

Shukadev thus clarifies, “God bestows only grace. Even when He is compelled to kill a demon, the one slain by Him attains liberation.”

In the eyes of the Divine, there are no enemies, only His children estranged from Him. Even His Sudarshan Chakra becomes an instrument of grace that draws the soul back to Him. This is why He is hailed as Hatari-Gati-Dayakah: the one who grants salvation even to those He kills.

Perhaps this divine mystery is best expressed in the words of Jagadguru Shree Kripalu Ji Maharaj in Prem Ras Madira:

“तेरी कृपा तो है कृपा प्यारे, तेरा कोप भी है कृपा प्यारे”

Your grace is indeed grace, O Beloved Lord; but even Your anger is Your grace.

Touch of Grace

Witnessing the sight of Shishupal’s liberation, Yudhishthir was bewildered. He turned to Sage Narad, who sat amidst the assembly, and asked, "O Sage, how could Shishupal possibly attain Moksh? His heart held nothing but hatred for Krishna.”

Narad ji replied,

कामं क्रोधं भयं स्‍नेहमैक्यं सौहृदमेव च ।

नित्यं हरौ विदधतो यान्ति तन्मयतां हि ते ॥ ~ Verse 10.29.15

Persons who constantly direct their lust, anger, fear, protective affection, feeling of impersonal oneness or friendship towards Lord Hari are sure to become absorbed in thought of Him.

This truth can be illustrated through the analogy of the Paras—the philosopher’s stone. Its singular nature is to transmute base iron into gold. Touch iron to it lovingly, and it becomes gold. Drop it upon the stone by accident, and it becomes gold. Strike it against the stone in anger, and it still becomes gold. So it is with God. Whether one’s mind is drawn to Him through lust, anger, fear, loving affection—it nonetheless gets attached to the all-pure, transcendent Reality. Hence, one’s consciousness is inevitably cleansed, and welfare follows.

Consider the Gopis. To them, Krishna was not the Supreme Lord; He was simply the irresistibly enchanting flute-player of Vrindavan. Yet because their minds were wholly absorbed in Him, they attained Golok (the highest divine Abode). In the same way, though Shishupal’s thoughts were rooted in enmity, his mind remained tethered to the Lord. Ultimately, Bhagavan transcends the miracle of the Paras. While the philosopher’s stone can only transform iron into precious metal, any attachment to the Lord sanctifies the soul itself.

Born Among Demons

Shukadev Ji next unfurled another striking chapter from the scripture—one that revealed how devotion can blossom even in the unlikeliest soil. It was the story of the fearsome demon king Hiranyakashipu and his saintly son, Prahlad.

After his brother Hiranyaksh was killed by the Lord, Hiranyakashipu sought to console the grieving women of the household. With lofty discourses on Brahma Gyan, he spoke of detachment and higher truths. Yet beneath those words, his own heart blazed with vengeance against the Lord. Determined to avenge his brother and wrest immortality from fate itself, he departed to perform severe austerities.

Meanwhile, his wife, Kayadhu, was carrying a child. When Indra, king of the celestials, learned of this, he grew alarmed. “Hiranyakashipu already wields terrifying power,” he thought. “If another demon is born of his blood, the celestial realms may be doomed.” Fearing the worst, Indra seized Kayadhu, intending to kill the child before it could even be born.

But just then, Sage Narad appeared and barred his path saying, “Do not commit this mistake. The child in Kayadhu’s womb is no demon but a Mahabhagavat, (a supreme devotee of God).” The moment Indra heard these words, he desisted.

Narad ji then sheltered Kayadhu in his hermitage and began imparting the mysteries of divine wisdom to her. Yet Kayadhu, bound by her demonic nature, found little taste for such spiritual discourse and would often drift into deep slumber as the sage spoke. But within her womb, the unborn Prahlad absorbed every syllable that fell from Narad’s lips. He perfected those teachings even before he drew his first breath. Thus, when Prahlad was born, his consciousness was such that he saw God everywhere.

In time, Hiranyakashipu’s penance bore fruit. Brahmaji appeared before him to grant a boon. Hiranyakashipu first demanded immortality. Brahma refused, for no embodied being could be granted eternal life. Undeterred, Hiranyakashipu spun a cunning web of conditions. He asked that his death should come:

●        Neither by day nor by night.

●        Neither on land nor in the sky.

●        Neither by man nor by beast.

●        Neither by shastra (handheld weapons) nor astra (launched missiles).

Brahma ji granted the boon with a simple, "Tathastu"—So be it. Yet Hiranyakashipu failed to grasp a deeper truth: the intellect itself functions only by the power of God. The very intelligence he used to craft his clever conditions had been granted by the Divine. No matter how artfully a boon is worded, it can never outwit the Supreme seated within all beings. Believing he had built a fortress around his life that even God could not breach, Hiranyakashipu returned home in triumph.

By then, Prahlad was still a young child. Delighted to see his son, Hiranyakashipu dreamed of grooming him into a ruthless successor to the demonic throne. He summoned the sons of the guru Shukracharya—Shand and Amark—and instructed them: "Teach my son Saam, Daam, Dand, Bhed—the tactics of negotiation, bribery, punishment, and division. Teach him all the cunningness of the world." Obediently, Shand and Amark took Prahlad away for training. Fifteen days passed. Convinced that young Prahlad had mastered demonic statecraft, they proudly brought him before his father. Hiranyakashipu sat on his throne. He was eager to witness the awakening of demonic ambition within the young prince. Little did he know, he was about to encounter something that no boon could shield him from...

Video Resource

Shree Krishna’s UNTOLD Grace that can Liberate Any Sinner | Bhagavatham Ep 17 Swami Mukundananda